Diary Mine
by Tatooinedweller
Summary: Yeah yeah, overdone, but I figured what the hey. Cecilia's diary...Rating is somewhat strict, mainly for adult issues. You know, typical adolescent questions and drama. [FINISHED]
1. Entries Set I

June 6

Dear Diary,

"Diary" sounds too normal, so I got to think of something else to call you I guess. Besides, Tony says only sissy baby girls like Mary have diarys (?). My new friend says that diarys are not baby-ish, that they are a nice way to remember something nice.

And that is what I must tell you about today.

Father let me come with him to a party today. My first party! I feel so grown-up! It was so so SO lovely, I can't even begin to discribe it all. Except that there were lots of people dressed in gowns that sparcled and swirled, and some had feathers and every lady wore shiny jewels that glittered in the sunlight. I hope I hope I get to wear those lovely gowns when I grow up! And then when the sun set the round color lights came on and lit up everything in the nicest way, like giant fireflies.

At first I played with Tony. You know Tony, the boy who lives in the big gold-rimmed howse. He can be so mean sometimes, but it was either him or Mary, and when I asked her to play she looked at me funny and put her hand to her chin vainly (I just learned that word a few days ago and have been wanting to use it!) and said that she wouldn't dare get her new violet dress filthy. It WAS such a lovely dress, violet with white puffs at the neck, but she didn't have to be so mean. So Tony and I thaught up ways to get her filthy.

We couldn't think of anything besides spiling punch on her, but then Max came and we stopped.

Max (I can't spell his whole name) is the son of the host, and it was his first party too. Tony had gone to wipe the dirt stains off his pants before his mother found him, so I was walking between the people and looking at the pretty dresses and listening to the talk (gossip, mother called it, and she told me I shouldn't listen). A big man came then, and pushed me (how rude!) and I fell on Max and we both fell down. He jumped up quick and helped me up like a gentleman and it was so nice I didn't know what to say. He just stood there holding out his hand and saying sorry for being in my way, was I all right? was my dress ruined? It was not, but I wish it was cause it's a horrid ugly thing. I'd rather have one without frills and lace like Mary's. (I had to be a lady back so of course I couldn't say these things) I told him I was fine and the dress was fine, thank you, and told him how nice it was for him to ask, and his face got all red. He looked so funny standing there with a red face since his skin is so white, like his hair, and I couldn't help but laugh but then he looked hurt so I said his outfit was lovely to make up for it and told him my name. He got all embarassed and said he was sorry he was so ungentlemenly he didn't introduce himself, he was Max-a-milian? Pegasis and then took my hand like mother says a gentleman should and got all red again and looked so funny, but this time I didn't laugh.

Then Tony came, and we all three played together for a while, telling each other stories about what happens at our houses. Max plays the piano (like me!) and the violin. Tony said that violins were for sissys, just like diarys, and that Mary had a lot of these. That's when Max said what I wrote at first, and gave a kind of strange look.

I bet he has his own diary. If Tony is right, does that make him a sissy too? I hope I see him again so I can ask him if he has his own diary. And maybe he can play something and I can sing. We were going to do that today but the party ended too soon.

Mother is yelling at me to turn off the light. Good night, Diary. (I must think up a better name)

January 12


	2. Entries Set II

A/N: I don't know what the actual spelling is supposed to be—no, that's a lie, I do: "Maximilian". However, I rather like "Maximillion" better (where on EARTH did I pick that one up? Do people spell it like that ever?) so I'm gonna use that. I figure it doesn't matter, since it's not his original name anyway (which I'm not using 'cause… well… "Crawford"? Try "Gag me.") Oh, and the only time I've ever tasted wine was at a Communion once, so just… overlook any mistakes of mine due to naiveté, s'il vous plait.

January 12 2000

Keeper of my secrets,

Max won't tell me whether he has a diary. I don't care what Tony says. I don't care if he is a sissy. He's nice and he likes music and art and I hope we get to be good friends.

Our fathers all went on business trips together, we think to Tokyo. Tony says they have vending machines for everything, even ladies used underwear. I wonder if that's true?

April 16 2004

Treasure-Box of Thoughts,

The flowers are beginning to bud. How lovely everything is in the spring. Such promise.

My birthday is soon. Mother said she'd let me have my first taste of wine when I turned 13. I wonder what it will be like?

I've started listening to the radio—don't tell mother! She thinks the music is all so coarse and vulgar, but… I suppose what Tony listens to would be considered so. Rap music, talking about guns and violence and sex (ew, I can't understand why anyone would ever want to do that!). And some of the opposite music, the soft rock, makes me want to throw the radio out the window, it's so bad. No nice harmonies or silky-smooth melodies or… I can't think of the word… the deep, breathtaking chords of the harder rock. (Ha ha, what mother would say if she read this!) Some of the lyrics are nice, but they're ruined by the music! I guess that's unfair. It's not all bad.

The reason I got to thinking about that was because we hosted a party yesterday, and Maximillion was there, and he brought his radio like he has often. We hid in one of the adjacent conference rooms and listened, catching up on things. Tony came in a little later and just walked up and turned the station, without even speaking! Loud rap music. Maximillion and I told him to turn it back or turn it off, but Tony refused, so we went out to the adults instead.

I used to think that Tony was my friend, now I'm not so sure. By the way, he says that wine's only good for getting drunk. Unfortunately for him, his mother overheard and gave him a Look, ha ha. Maximillion later asked Tony what it tasted like, and Tony said "dog piss" (oh, if mother ever got her hands on this!)

April 29 2004

Book of Secrets,

Tony was right. Wine's not as good as I'd hoped, and to be completely honest I felt a little sick afterwards. Does that make me unrefined? Mother so wants for me to be a lady.

I think mother is becoming good friends with Mrs. Pegasus.

April 30 2004

Secret Thoughts,

I've finally worked up the courage to write this down. I shouldn't let it bother me, I suppose, but… Father wasn't there for my birthday, which is okay because he was in Berlin on important business. But Tony said "what a pity your father couldn't make his own daughter's birthday" and how he said it hurt a little. Father has a perfectly good excuse! What did Tony mean? Why does his comment sting?


	3. Entries Set III

January 5 2005

Friend,

My aunt Cara is very sick, and the doctors think she might not live much longer. I really don't know her very well. Mother was crying, but… Is it horrid of me that I don't feel sad?

One of the ladies that mother knows, Miss Haliss, is putting together a play, and she somehow got the idea that we would like to act in it. It's Shakespeare's Hamlet. I'd rather do A Midsummer Night's Dream, but Hamlet's okay. Actually, I'd rather not act at all. Tony will be Hamlet, Maximillion is Laertes, Mary is Gertrude, John (an older boy who is always very uptight) is Polonius and Hamlet's ghost (he wears a mask when he's the ghost!), and his even older brother Lann is Claudius. I get to be Ophelia, which isn't so bad. Oh right, and the twins Sue and Mark play everyone else. We had to alter some lines and cut out poor Guildenstern entirely. We've only practiced a couple of times, just reading through the parts. It seems like it's going to take a long time to learn this all. Miss Haliss says there's no hurry, when we're ready we're ready.

Maximillion gave me a Josh Groban CD. He said that that's what he wanted to sound like when his voice matured. "Canto Alla Vita" Is so much fun to dance to. Maximillion says his favorite is "Vincent," and it is sooo sad and beautiful!

"_A silver thorn, a bloody rose lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow"_

I wish I understood what was so wonderful about love poems. Everyone seems to be so moved by them. In the movies, the older person always says "you'll understand when you're older." Why? What changes? Well, besides THAT, I mean. I'm not sure I want to change.

January 28, 2005

My Dear Friend,

Aunt Cara died. Mother is very upset. Sue asked me discreetly what she died of, and I realize that I don't know.

I've begun liking the practices, it's fun to play Ophelia. Maximillion is not a very good actor, he he. Tony's not bad at all, and neither is Lann. I hope I am doing alright.

I decided to try writing poetry:

On a bright and shining star

Somewhere near, not too far

Light of moon shine in the sky

Shine on angels as they fly

How was that?

Oh yes, and Maximillion painted me today. He's so good. I'll learn to write poetry well so I have something to make for him, too!

November 25, 2005

Friend,

Today we acted out parts of Hamlet. It took all afternoon, because we kept using 'inappropriate gestures', by inappropriate I mean not how Shakespeare intended. Tony, however, was making truly inappropriate gestures to me. He likes the play scene too much. Should I confront Miss Haliss about this? I don't want to change everything just because Tony makes me uncomfortable, but…

November 27, 2005

Friend,

It's painful to remember what happened, but I must write it. Here's what happened:

We were acting out the scene where Hamlet enter's Ophelia's room all disheveled and kisses her. We acted it out a few times and Tony was a gentleman. Then when we took a break Tony asked me to look at something with him off stage. I went, of course. I followed him. Then he… I can hardly bear to write this… he threw his arms around me and kissed me hard, and slid his hands….

Anyway, I slapped him hard and pushed him away and fled to the stage, where Maximillion and Mary were. Both of them came to me and asked what was wrong, and I think I blushed and Tony came out from behind at that moment with a red mark on his cheek. I started crying, and they let me go home and rest.

I didn't tell anyone. The look Tony gave me…

But I did tell Miss Haliss that I didn't want to be Ophelia anymore.

I'm crying now, as I write this. My first kiss, and I didn't even want it. Aren't first kisses supposed to be special? My first kiss. Unwelcome.

Maximillion asked me just a little while ago if there was anything he could do to make me feel better. I'm so grateful that he didn't ask what was wrong. It's nice to have a true friend, not like Tony.

My first kiss… Ah me!

November 29, 2005

Friend.

Miss Haliss told Tony he'd be a better Claudius. Maximillion is playing Hamlet. We played the same scene as before, and I was afraid he would be like Tony. No! He didn't even kiss my mouth, just my hand, and Miss Haliss told him to make it authentic, and grinned. He blushed and muttered something about working up to it. I'm smiling over this! The first time I've smiled since the Tony incident.


	4. Entries Set IV

AN: Yes, I am aware how corney this is getting, and I'm not afraid to admit it. It's a learning experience. Everyone should try something that totally bombs. You other aspiring writers can learn from this too :-P

June 23, 2006

Friend and Confidante,

We've FINALLY set the date for the Hamlet performance! Two weeks from today. We all know it inside and out by now. I'm very nervous.

How strange it is. At the start of our work on the play, the love scenes meant nothing to me… but now they are so lovely. "Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest." How breathtakingly gorgeous!

I've finally begun to understand the love poems, the love songs… ah, and tragedy is the best! Bringing out the best of the characters through the worst of situations.

Maximillion and I like to discuss the CDs—mother still does not know we listen to that mainstream music! This is why I was thinking of it: I listened to the Evanescence CD the other day, which he gave me so long ago: the newer and the older. There are so many beautiful lyrics, and my favorites are tragic. "Some say I'm crazy for my love, oh, my love; yet no bonds can hold me from your side, oh, my love; they don't know you can't leave me, they don't hear you singing to me!" "Say goodnight, don't be afraid, calling me, calling me, as you fade to black…" I can just see the girl clutching the tearful lover's shirt… Like in the Matrix. He he, me and Maximillion's guilty secret, the action movies. That scene just caught me, ah, ah, how beautiful love is.

Silently the angel sleeps

Quietly the lover weeps

Under weeping willow tree

Under gaze of lazy bee

Red that specks the whitest wing

No longer will the angel sing

How's that? I think my poetry is getting better! But the bee detracts from the mood, I think. What else rhymes with 'tree'?

June 30 2006

Friend and Confidante,

Maximillion found out that I was so nervous and sent me the sweetest note. I'm going to paste it here to read when I'm old, hehe:

All nights resolve into day

So worry not, Cecilia,

For none are better suited to play

The graceful, fair, Ophelia

July 7 2006

I can hardly write, let alone breathe, today... today... today!

Our dress rehersal for the Hamlet performance next week! It was a lovely day, so before rehersal Maximillion and I went for a walk along the stream. I confessed how nervous I was and I joked that he would have to learn to kiss me on the lips if we were to pull of that scene. He blushed and laughed... nervously? (How many times have I seen that blush and not understood... or?) I must have shuddered, because he implied that if Tony ever got on my nerves that he'd confront him for me. I told him what happened that day. He looked so shocked, and angry, and let me cry on his shoulder.

Then Marsy saw us in the hallway and said something snappy and Sara laughed and told me in a whisper to disregard it, she's just jealous. Of what? I asked. Of Maximillion's attention to me. Apparently Mary favors him. Maximillion's attention...

At rehersal... the scene... he still kissed my hand, but... in his eyes there was something more... am I imagining it?

July 8 2006

Friend and Confidante,

The play went so well. We all went out for dinner afterwards. I haven't had time to be alone with Maximillion, so I don't know what's becoming of that.

Tony offered to escort me home, and I decided to give him a second chance to be nice. He said he was sorry for the other night. Ah, boys and hormones. Can I trust him?

July 9 2006

Friend and Consolation,

Maximillion was talking with Mary today. They were laughing over something. She saw me watching and told me to buzz off. Maximillion didn't look at me. I guess he doesn't like me, after all. I feel a little... sad.

January 5 2007

Doctors came today, and I don't think there's one test they didn't do on me. Mother sat me down and explained that they're afraid that someone else may have what Aunt Clara had. It's hereditary, apparently. Of course, that means that I might be a carrier as well. Could I never have children?

February 6 2007

No time—must think—ink blurring in this cold, blinding, accursed rain—I ran from the house—father—mother—oh, oh, will she be okay? What should I do? Blood—fists—shouting—the sick smell of alcohol… I know. Carlisle doesn't mind bad water—ride him to the Pegasus house.

February 6

What a night!

I am sitting, waiting. Mrs. Pegasus ran out to fetch the doctor and my father went along.

I came and knocked on the door. Immediately Maximillion opened it, pulled me inside, wrapped a blanket around me. (told me later that he had a feeling I was in trouble—strange) Mrs. Pegasus brought a glass of good wine before she left and told me it was good for a broken heart. I collapsed into humiliating hysteria, just broke down sobbing. Maximillion wrapped his arms around me, and we stayed like that for what must have been a very long time… and I realized… how wonderful it was to cry on his shoulder—a true friend. A true friend—and—wait, let me stay in order. It was so wonderful, feeling his warmth on my cold skin, his fingers comfortingly stroking my back, my fingers tangled in his silver hair… I started babbling about how couldn't father love me—what had I done wrong?

How devious I am, baiting him like that! I didn't do it consciously, though, I don't think. But I never expected—wait.

Of course, he said my father would be a fool not to love me. I stopped crying. After a pause he said "A man could only dream that such an angel as you would love him in return."

I look up, and he was blushing furiously, anxious as to what I'd say I guess, which surprised me. Of course I told him that I thought he was with Mary, and it was his turn to be surprised.

Then it hit me again, that image of mother, bleeding, on the floor under father;s heavy fists---and I cried again. Cried and cried and cried that I wished I could erase the memories from my mind…

So…

He did.

His gentle, artists' fingers on one cheek… his others at the small of my back… his face meeting mine…

And time stopped and the blood became roses and the heat of father's fury refining fires.

Diary, Mrs. Pegasus just entered the room. She says mother is fine. She smiled at me, my head in the crook of her son's arm. I think everything…

..._will be all right_…


	5. Entries Set V

AN: I was thinking of what song to use for the January 13 entry, and I thought of several relevent songs but couldn't get Mi Mancherai out of my head (by Josh Groban). So I finally gave in and looked up the lyrics, and just about died. I'm not posting them here for space sake, but I HIGHLY suggest you look them up here: http/ After joining the Roseshipping club, I've learned that I was mistaken about several facts in this. I'm ignoring my new knowledge and continuing using my prior assumptions.

ALSO. I've lost all track of time. I think I screwed up somewhere, and made her older than she ought to be. Sorry.

March 27

Keeper of My Innermost Secrets,

Oh, I cannot begin to describe how beautiful life has become knowing my dear Maximillion loves me so. Why, last night we went to New York, to Broadway for a show, and it was so wonderful. We sat in a box, apart from all the other guests ('my immortal being cannot dwell among the common rabble,' he said, and then realized that, being with me, he had either admitted himself to be more than 'common rabble' and turned red! I realized what made him pause and saved him, of course!). The show was spectacular, but even if it had been horrible I think I would have been perfectly happy just sitting there in the dark, knowing he was there beside me.

Reading this over, I realize just how hopeless I am, dear diary! I used to wonder how women could act in such ways. What depths have I fallen to for a man! Man? No, of course, that's the difference: my dear Maximillion is no man, he's a kind, gentle, wonderful part of my very own soul. We think the same thoughts, we sing the same melody, we see the same visions! He's not just another coarse being, but my own alter ego. We are, dear diary, as one.

May 5

Dear Book of Thought,

Maximillion is away on business, and you're all I have to talk to. Not that you're only as a last ditch! I do love you, too!

I feel so badly; he had such a look on his face when he left, kissing my fingers and ensuring me he'd return soon and to look after myself. Ha, it's only been a day, and I already feel as though a part of me is gone!

Sometimes I worry about my poor dear Maximillion. He can be so set on his projects! For example, he took it into his head to paint a picture for me before he left, a picture of a young girl all in white stepping gently on the clouds of heaven, and he proceeded to paint the picture and forget about all else! I had to bring meals in for him, because he simply would not let it go. He would finish it before he set off, he said, if it was the last thing he did. For two and a half days he did nothing but paint, and several times I caught him asleep with paint smeared all over the floor (It will be a bear to get out), looking so helplessly romantic I didn't have the heart to tell him to stop with any force. I did tell him to rest, but he simply wouldn't listen. Amazing, how he can concentrate so hard for so long!

But he did finish it in time, and it's absolutey gorgeous.

Oct 30

Lovely Secret-Holder,

How the time flies and flies, far too fast. And although the road runs through Paradise, even paths of gold must have some bumps, I suppose.

I must admit something... I cannot ignore it. I haven't been myself the past few months. I think... I think I may be sick with the sickness that aunt had. They never told me, after the check-up I had nearly forgotten about. It might be something else. I won't tell Maximillion until I'm sure, I suppose. But we talk about everything! Well, no sense in false worry.

December 16

Immortal Friend,

Ugh, I feel so tired! I must get more sleep.

Today Mr. Pegasus had quite a fancy party. Maximillion and I snuck into the ballroom and played a few duets as we like to do. Then he decided he wanted to dance, but neither of us felt like mingling with the rather boring guests. So we danced together, by ourselves, in the empty, silent ballroom.

Silent! How could I say such a thing? The music of angels filled the air and the beat of our hearts kept time (Oh but that sounds so cliche!).

I can't imagine a day any more wonderful.

Diary, I just had a thought: will he ask me to marry him? I'm sure our parents would approve. I--I guess I hope that he does.

Diary, I'm going to say something incredibly dorky but absolutely true: I love him more than life itself.

Jan. 12

This crazy illness! I wish it would leave me alone! Mother won't let me outdoors and Maximillion's father won't let him see me until we find out whether it's contageous or not. It's not too bad, but the doctors won't give a conclusion either way!

Jan. 13

Dear Dream-Catcher,

Last night... what a night!

I had gone to bed early (curse this pesky cold!) I was awakened by a tap on my window. Sitting up, I heard music. I went to the window, only to see my dear beau standing in the snow below, singing to me! Serenading me with the violin, wraithlike as he wove from side to side in time to the winding music. I recognized the music immediatly... Mi Mancherai, one of my favorites. The violin winds through the song like the wind through dark trees, and for a moment everything blurred and there was only the music and the glide of the bow and the moonlight reflecting eerily on the white snowy ground and on his gleaming hair...

I think I nearly blacked out, but recovered once I put my head down (again... this stupid cold!). And then he stopped, looked up, and threw something with a great effort. It missed my window, of course, and he had to retreive it from where it fell in the bushes along the house, and then he slipped and fell face first in the snow! As he picked himself up he kept his head down, looking so abashed I couldn't help but laugh, and then looked up again, made a great show of bringing the object to his lips and then laying it gently on the ground under my window.

I ran downstairs as fast as I could (oh dear, I hope mother hasn't found out...) and found under my window a red rose. In winter!

And my prince had disappeared into the snowlit lands.


	6. Final Entries Set

A/N: FINALLY FINISHED HURRAH! Trying to synchronize this with "when the rose falls" key word being "trying". If you want my story of the wedding and such, go there.

Jan. 19

Maximillion's mother has died. He's taking it so well, but I know it hurts him greately. He won't speak of her. He avoids it altogether, while still managing to appear normal to others, but I know he's trying not to think of it.

Jan. 20

Dearest diary!

He--We--- We're getting married!

We went to the opera last night... To the Metropolitan Opera house in New York! "Madame Butterfly." So lovely, although I do want to kill that man... what was his name? I can't even remember!

Maximillion took around Manhatten, and then to eat at Tavern on the Green, making me feel like a queen the entire day. I wondered what was up, for he was acting rather strangely... preoccupied. And at Tavern he kept making me laugh by making the most irreverant faces in the beautiful glass lining the hallway. Then he kept saying things... when I was amazed by the chandalier in the Met he told me that he would build one for me from broken wine glasses if I so much as asked. I, of course, told him I'd rather have one of his paintings than a thousand crystal chandaliers.

After dinner and after the show he took me for a ride on a carriage, and said very little. It was then I that I guessed what he was up to.

We stopped at a hotel and took a glass elevator to the very top. The city glittered like a million diamonds below us. I felt I could fly. The elevator stopped, and the doors stayed closed, so it became so silent all we could hear was our breath and the faint noise of traffic below, floating up like a dream... king and queen of a fairyland...

And then he got down on one knee... and told me that without me, his butterfly, his angel, he would never live, never have lived, and he had loved me since he first saw me so long ago at the party, and how he would love me until the twinkling stars ceased to shine and the great waters of the earth dried, and even then he would stay loyal to me forever.

And then... I found I was crying!

I couldn't help it; my knees gave out and I fell and hugged him, hard, clinging like I was never to let go ever again, and sobbing...

...I have to admit. I NEED to admit. Not all of that was happiness. Diary, I'm afraid. I am afraid I have what my aunt had. The flu simply does not last this long.

Diary, finally. Finally. Finally! What if... what if I'm dying? What if I'm taken from him? Some say I shouldn't say 'what if', but this... it makes sense. The way the doctors would not tell me the results of the test. The way mother was sad. The way I feel weak. Worse and worse as time passes.

I must consider... What if I die. What will happen to him?

What will he do, what will he do?

I see now... now that this is a possiblity... he loves me so much, he's so devoted. And I think... I think he clings to me now that his mother is gone. For support. He can be so... anal sometimes. I'm afraid he won't be able to handle it. And also... he's not handling his mother's death all that well. He refuses to think about it unless he absolutely must, and even then I feel as though he's just spitting out fact and not connecting it to himself... like his mind just will not process it. A reflex.

Something inside tells me I must not die.

Feb. 25

It is true. I am sick. The doctors are doing what they can. Maximillion knows. I see fear in his eyes every time we must speak of it. We're moving up the wedding date before I get too ill (that sounds so pessimistic!).

March 15

The wedding is tomorrow! Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow! I can hardly bear to think it, the thought is just too wonderful!

March 17

Diary,

The red of the rose pales next to blood.

The wedding was beautiful, except... I collapsed.

Oh, Cecilia, dear, get a hold of yourself!

I can't retell the story. It's just too fresh.

And now I am bedridden, and my strength wanes so quickly. Too quickly. Alas, that fate plays such cruel games with we as its pawns.

March 20

Diary Mine,

I am weak, so words are few. I write this for Maximillion's sake.

My love... I hope you read this after I leave. Read, and realize. I love you. You know. Please, don't forget me, don't forget our love, but move on. Remember. Remeber the walks in the fields, the opera trips. The wedding. Dancing alone, just us. Painting. Music. Life. Love.

Don't forget, but live on.

Please.

I love you.

Live, for my sake.

Live for me.

Until we meet again.

end


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